White Knight (Dirty Mafia Duet, #2)(7)

I clear my throat and give Silas a smile that can’t possibly appear sincere. “It’s a little late for warnings at this point.” It’s nice to know that I’m capable of speaking the truth . . . apparently, just not when it counts.

His brow furrows and a moment later, he pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to me. It’s a card with the initials S.B. and a number on it.

“I probably shouldn’t offer, but if you ever need anything, or ever get yourself into trouble . . . I spend a lot of time in the city, and I’m damn good at keeping secrets.” His gaze sharpens as I tuck the card into my pocket. “And I also watched a lot of the Investigation Network when I was studying for my last role.”

That’s when I realize what I’m seeing on his face is knowledge. He’s feeling me out to see if his suspicions are right, and whether I’ll admit I’m not who I say I am. A chunk of ice in the form of a ticking time bomb forms in my stomach.

Stay cool. Act cool. Be cool. My mantra repeats in my head.

“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Bohannon. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ll get you that mineral water, and please let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

He gives me a slow nod and returns to his seat.

That feeling of someone walking over my grave? It’s back with a vengeance.





6





Cannon





I’ve been watching her on the security cameras like I’m some kind of degenerate stalker. My fingers itch to look her up online now that I know her real name, but I won’t. Dom has access to the same security footage I do, and it wouldn’t be hard to zoom in on my computer screen.

Since taking over the club, I’ve lived in a world that’s the equivalent of a fishbowl, but it never really bothered me until now, when I want to order Memphis Lockwood into my office and demand a complete explanation for what the hell is going on. I glance at the clock again, hyperaware that only ten minutes have passed since the last time I checked the time.

Why today of all days? When I can’t leave and take her with me and say fuck this place and everyone in it?

Because that’s life. Always putting obstacles in front of the things you truly want, just to test your resolve. My patience is strong, but this afternoon it’s getting the workout of the century.

I will get my answers, and I’ll get them today. Or rather, in the early hours of tomorrow, when I’m finally able to escort her back to my place for an interrogation that will do the Spanish Inquisition proud.

With that decision settled, I glance back at the security cameras again and still. Silas Bohannon, hotshot actor extraordinaire, has her cornered. He’s handing her something. What the fuck?

Drew—no, Memphis—scurries away to the kitchen while tucking a card in her pocket.

What the hell? Is he part of her scam? Is she here to get information on him and not the family?

Or is she already moving on to new territory and getting ready to jump ship?

Over my dead fucking body.

Despite the anger that’s been rolling through me at a steady boil today, a spike of jealousy pierces my chest. My hands curl into fists as I shove back in my chair. Less than sixty seconds later, I’m standing beside Bohannon’s table.

“Mr. Bohannon, why don’t you have a cigar with me? On the house. I’ve got something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Memphis approaches the table, a green bottle of Perrier clutched in her hand, and she trips on a nonexistent wrinkle in the carpet when she hears me.

Bohannon looks up at me, assessing and suspicious.

Memphis silently places the bottle on the table and then backs away, and Bohannon’s attention goes with her before cutting back to me. He doesn’t respond until she disappears into the kitchen again.

“I have a feeling I know what you want to talk about,” he says, relaxing deep into the leather chair and threading his fingers together on his lap. “But you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not trespassing on your territory, Freeman. Just offering assistance if it happens to be needed.”

All I see is red.

“If you’d like to retain your membership in this club, I suggest you keep your offers of assistance to yourself.”

Instead of looking shocked or insulted, he throws his head back and laughs.

What the fuck is so goddamned funny? I grind my teeth silently as I wait for him to speak.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad, man. I only recognize it because I’ve been there. Hell, I’m still there. It ain’t fun either.”

I glance around us out of habit before I lower myself into the chair across from him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He lifts his chin in the direction of the kitchen where Memphis disappeared. “I think we both know that you’ve got an unusually strong interest in one of your employees. I don’t need to know what the hell is going on to see that you’re fuming, and because of that you’re ready to piss all over your territory. Man, I’m telling you that you don’t need to. I’m not trying to steal your girl. I’ve already got more women problems than I can handle as it is.”

His startling accuracy has me leaning back in my chair to match his posture.

“I haven’t heard a single word about you and a woman, so you’re obviously better at keeping things under wraps than I am.”